Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 38: Caine: The Price of Stealing

CAINE

"No! I didn’t. She—she wouldn’t let me get near her. I swear it, High Alpha."

Fenris growls low in my head, but Jack-Eye’s hand grasps my shoulder, squeezing hard. "Caine," he says. Just my name, but his tone is full of warning.

I killed the last Alpha. Killing his successor is going to bring more trouble and headache. These are all facts I understand, but my brain is screaming, howling for a blood payment to ease my rage.

"That girl is mine," I whisper, forcing my clenched fingers to relax. The moment tension is released, his face slams to the ground again, still victim to my dominance.

Kill him, Fenris says, as if he wasn’t the one to force a promise of pacifism out of me earlier.

I shake my head, fighting to clear the red haze of bloodlust clouding my vision. The struggle is visceral—a war between my baser instincts and whatever shred of civility I’ve managed to maintain since ascending the Lycan’s throne.

It hasn’t been this hard since... A long time ago, in memories I refuse to recall.

My foot comes down on Raphael’s outstretched hand. Not an accident. Not a mistake. A deliberate, calculated expression of my fury.

Tiny bones crunch beneath my heel, bringing me a sliver of satisfaction, though my face remains blank.

Raphael grunts, jaw clenched tight, fighting to maintain dignity through the pain.

I’m not satisfied with this small display. Digging my heel in deeper, I grind against already fractured bones. Something inside me—something darker than even my normal temperament—wants to hear him break completely.

a high, shrill scream, I feel the barest hint of

Grace Harper belong to?" My voice drops low, barely above a whisper. The question hangs in the air between us,

groans. "She’s yours, High

slightly at his admission. The submission in his voice calms the savage beast clawing at my

sweeps across the clearing, taking in the mass of prostrated wolves. Some have their faces pressed so hard against the dirt I wonder if they’re still breathing. Others tremble visibly. Terror and fury mix in a bitter, pungent odor, overpowering

hands off the girl.

frozen, without so

my consciousness. A detail I’ve missed. I scan the gathering again, more carefully this time, cataloguing the faces, the scents,

oversight for a succession ceremony.

trouble, leaving me uneasy. Especially when I also realize the scent from the girl’s room, the strange wolf who’d challenged

Fenris.

my skin burning as he materializes beside me, saturating the immediate

order him, keeping my eyes

building with supernatural speed. The sight of him—manifested separately from

Raphael, grabbing his hair to once again bring his face level with mine. His eyes are glazed with pain,

else visited Grace tonight?" My voice is calm now, almost conversational. The contrast to

Jack-Eye says again, with

bringing more trouble and work onto

mine again. "Who

one," he says, his voice

Lie, lie, LIE.

I grab his jaw, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "After what just happened